


Of Alloy And Crystal

by SandAss



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Character Death, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Naive Reader, Other, Reader-Insert, Starscream being Starscream, Starscream don't care huh, big bruh moment here, bleeding alloy m, reader and starscream fucked in the past, reader is a crystal bitch, reader is also implied to be v young for her kind but she like millions of years old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26141836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandAss/pseuds/SandAss
Summary: Left behind in a ravine by the one she'd offered herself to so long ago, dear crystal bitch confronts her shitty life choices and has a short comms chat with the one who sealed her fate.It's angst, obviously.
Relationships: Starscream (Transformers)/You
Kudos: 23





	Of Alloy And Crystal

You never thought it’d end up like this - you never thought it was even possible for it, you, to end up anywhere near the state you were currently in.

Lying in a pool of your own alloy, limbs scattered in a broken jigsaw puzzle of useless shards, all by your lonesome.

It was never supposed to end up like this, you knew that.

That greed-driven parasite - Starscream is what you knew him as. 

He’d made all of this possible. 

He’s the one that had gone against fate, and plucked you away from your home as one would a rose petal, and he’d put you among the decaying ranks of the Decepticons, and he’d been the one to sully your pure being with his filth.

And now, that coward had left you to wilt in favour of saving his own sorry ass. He’d pushed you down the ravine, hoping to distract the Autobots, but nobody really gave a shit about the scream you’d let past your crystalline lips as you tumbled down and shattered in your grave.

Apparently, you weren’t alive - not really. Not in their eyes, anyways.

Nothing but a ‘sentient rock’, a tool - as Megatron had loved to say. You begged to differ, but nowadays all you seemed to do is begging for various things - from an ounce of sunlight to a saviour in your darkest hours.

You’d get neither, as it turned out.

Your alloy shifted, changing states and reaching out a shivering tendril to the communications device you’d been offered a while back - metallic liquid struggling to maintain a solid enough form to push the buttons you’d needed to press.

You weren’t going to die alone here, in the dark - that’s what you kept telling yourself. You’d have someone, a voice at the very least. 

Faintness threatened to overtake you as your energy drained itself, and you knew they’d never put you back together, and you knew they’d let the chattering mandibles of Earth reclaim your lifeless shards and reform you into pretty, useless trinkets buried in the ground.

Dragging the piece of technology closer, you’d finally managed to open a comm link to someone, and you’d hoped they would pick up.

Static.

And then a small beep, causing your alloy to shift and cradle the device closer.

For a moment, nothing. Maybe you had been delirious, and maybe you had imagined the sound and maybe, just maybe-

‘Commander Starscream here, make it quick.’ the voice on the receiving end snarled, not unlike an angered child.

Nevermind then.

Of course it’d be him - just your luck.

“You forgot something behind.” you’d said. The bite in your tone was mild, but the poison you’d drenched your voice with was more than enough to make the seeker on the other end visibly flinch - at least, that’s what you would have liked to imagine.

Evidently, he hadn’t been expecting you, of course not.

‘Oh? Have I?’

And the bastard didn’t even care, it seemed.

“Come back.” you whimpered - not intentionally, of course.

It was a simple command, a simple thing to ask for. A second chance at life after your first had been ripped away and left somewhere on that desolate moon they had found you on so many eons ago.

‘You really expect me to go back for a mere trooper?’

“Yeah, something like that.” you’d answered, tone lacking the lively, teasing waivers it once held.

A second passed by, and it suddenly seemed to stretch for an eternity.

“You’ll... come collect me, right?”

Silence followed once again - how you hated it. He wasn’t coming back, you knew that, but the silence didn’t help your morale either.

Of course, you knew he hadn’t hung up on you - the static was still ringing in your ears and as long as it continued to enter your mind, you’d be fine.

“You’ll... put me back together..?” you asked again, question coming out as a plea instead of a rough demand.

Again, nothing came back. Maybe he wasn’t listening - he never was, now that you think about it.

‘No - I won’t.’

He was predictable, wasn’t he? To be fair with yourself, you’d more or less outlived your use to the Decepticon cause seeing as you’d been downgraded to a mere trooper not long ago. They’d opened you up, studied your innards, and weaponized your basic structures.

Their war was being won, and you weren’t even going to get to celebrate it. They were going to act as the victors, write the history books, and you’d lay discarded somewhere on the cold, hard pavement. 

Bastards.

All of them were bastards, and they could all rot in whatever version of Hell they had for all you cared, and you were only sad that you wouldn’t get to dance on their broken bodies once their own built-in mortality had caught up to their sorry asses.

“Shame....” you’d said.

The SIC had started to utter a disinterested ‘Indeed.’ before you interrupted him halfway through his short remark.

“...Seeing you rust would’ve been a nice sight.”

At this point, you didn’t want to hear his voice anymore, and you didn’t really care whether he took your statement to heart or not, but you wanted him to hear your voice anyways. You wanted him to hear just how much you hated him and his kind, even if you never have been good with words.

He’d said he’d loved you once, long ago, and maybe that wasn’t mere manipulation. Your delirious state helped in tricking your own self into thinking maybe - just maybe - someone had given a single shit about your existence ever since you left the lunar grounds of your people’s nursery.

“I can’t help thinking that you’re all horrible beings, really.”

They were Decepticons - they didn’t give a shit.

Hit harder, then. Try again.

“Remember all those nights, Stars? The ones when you’d told me how my body shined oh-so-beautifully in the dim lights of the Nemesis?”

He’d stayed silent, unsure what you were getting at. You, too, were unsure whether he was even listening, but this was your death. You’d get to choose how to spend your last living minutes and you’d chosen you’d let him know of your spite. 

And he couldn’t do jackshit about it.

“When you held me close, and even said you cared for me that one time.” When he'd seen you at your barest, and when he'd sung you praises - those were the few happy memories you possessed in your mind.

And he remembered it well, you both did. It had been one of his few moments of willingly-shown vulnerability, after all.

“And now look where I am.”

In a grave, you would have said. But you let it fall on him, and maybe - hopefully - he’d turn it over once in his processor before his mind completely discarded your words.

“And I told you I loved you once, too, didn’t I?”

Maybe it was rhetorical, the question. You weren’t sure you wanted him to confirm your naivety in your last moments of consciousness.

‘I… yes, you did.’ his words seemed empty - bored - as he uttered his confirmation. Maybe he was distracted by something more interesting, and that’s why he stumbled at the beginning of his sentence. 

Yeah, that sounded about right.

Your alloy shifted, slipping from the device ever-so-slightly. Just a bit longer, you’d told yourself.

“I confused hate with love, I think.”

You hoped that hit him and left a dent at the very least. You hoped he hadn’t just taken advantage of you all those times you two were by yourselves, and you’d hoped he gave at least an ounce of a shit about whatever you were saying.

“I didn’t know which was which, I was... am... too blind - too naive - to know, maybe.”

‘Your point?’ he finally spat out through the comms. No stumbling this time, you noted.

Alas, he never gave a shit anyways. He’s not the type to care about anyone but himself, and you should have seen that earlier.

Nevermind, then. Hearing him caused you pain now, and in more ways than one. 

Be quick, be swift with your words - it’s the best you can do for the short time you’ll continue to be around.

That’s what you’d said to your convoluted conscience, at least.

“I’m fading, and you’re not here. That’s my point.”

‘Death is a normal part of life. You expect me to be by your side for something so trivial?’

Ah - there it was. That tone of voice he’d used every time he wasn’t pleased with what you were doing. The shit-eater fully knew your people could live for as long as they weren’t shattered - your bodies never really degraded naturally - yet he didn’t care that he caused all this. His over-inflated ego didn’t allow his processor to offer any kind of pity to the ones close to him, after all. 

Alas, here you were - doing what you could have easily avoided had you run away from him all those eons ago, instead of following him like the stupid emergeling you were. 

You hated yourself for being as blind as you were.

Gradually, your alloy slipped further, and your head now filled itself with nonsense, with monochromatic tones and with confused, senseless vibrations. Maybe it was just your delirious self, but it felt as if your body was tearing itself apart in an attempt to feel alive.

Sentences were now rather hard to form, you’d found out. He’d hang up if you didn’t speak soon, and then he’d never know your last words.

That terrified you, to a degree.

Gathering whatever strength you could, you ignored the sharp pangs of pain the cracks in your abdomen, and in your face, and in your mind, were sending through your being and you’d opened your lips to filter through the increasing rubbish filling your crystal-carved skull.

“..Fuck you.”

With a lot more effort than necessary, you’d managed to spit out something with a bit of sense. The static was gone by now, probably.

Maybe he was gone too, and maybe you were meant to die like this after all. Maybe fate truly hated you, and simply decided to give you the hand holding the shittiest death you could get.

You couldn’t really think at this point, and you felt odd - not there but still alive, in a way. You’d closed your eyes - a nap should do nicely, now. Gathering your strength seemed like the best thing to do, seeing as you were unknowingly tearing yourself apart.

This was bad, and you half-knew that.

The void-like haze that filled your vision made you half-aware of just how bad you had it, and even if true death wasn’t waiting for you, you were terrfied beyond belief.

Stasis. A million times worse than death itself due to the pure fact that you’d be stuck in your own crystalline remains until you were whole again - which would never happen.

An eternity of aimlessly drifting between life and death.

You weren’t ready for that.

You thought of him one last time, and maybe he gave you a second thought as well as he pierced the skies with his sleek, metallic form. That's what you hoped for, at least.

And maybe you wouldn’t be forgotten in the end, but you doubted that.

But you weren’t ready for this.

You let yourself fall to the tides of unbeing, and your chest collapsed in on itself at last - your head following suit not long after. 

You weren’t ready for any of this.


End file.
